


It's My Party

by Spookyclaire



Category: Glee
Genre: Blangst, Hostage Situation, Klaine, M/M, warnings for violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-24 09:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/938088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spookyclaire/pseuds/Spookyclaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sick Blaine invites his friends to a big gala his father is holding, but things go wrong when some uninvited guests decide to crash the shingdig. Now it’s all up to Kurt and him to survive the party and save everyone…that is, if he can stay conscious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr, I decided to post it on here as well. Enjoy!

Blaine shifted from foot to foot, trying to stop his hands from reaching out to Kurt. He was just itching to dance with his boyfriend. All the other couples were dancing, why couldn’t he?

_Because mom told you to bring a girl. You know that._

With a deep sigh he glanced at all the dancing couples, swallowing down his displeasure and his nausea – he didn’t need to be sick right now. This headache wasn’t helping either. With another sigh he leaned a little so his and Kurt’s shoulders were touching. The taller boy turned to him, an almost sad smile gracing his features as he realized what Blaine was thinking. Before either teen could say anything, though, Rachel and Tina were suddenly in front of them.

“Would you boys like to dance?” Blaine’s brows furrowed, confused by the girls, but glanced to Kurt who shrugged.

“Why not.” The counter-tenor smiled.

Taking the girls’ hands they got close for the thankfully slow song that was playing, Blaine wasn’t sure his stomach could handle a fast song right now. _You’re just nervous_ , he told himself, _you always feel like this at these stupid parties._

Blaine gave Tina a warm smile as she put her arms around his neck. She returned the gesture before glancing towards Rachel and Kurt. Blaine followed her line of sight to the other two. They were standing the same way he and Tina were, her arms around his neck and his hands resting at her lower back. Rachel was saying something to Kurt who was glancing over to Blaine.

A moment later the other couple was right behind Blaine and Tina. Rachel’s back was all but pressed against the Asian girl’s and before Blaine could ask what they were doing he could feel a pair of hands slip into his. Glancing up he could see Kurt was resting his head on Rachel’s shoulder, staring right into Blaine’s eyes. Blaine smiled, squeezing his boyfriend’s hands and resting his head on Tina’s shoulder as well.

It was as close as they were going to get to dancing together with Blaine’s mother around. He’d take it. It was even making him feel a little better.

With a content sigh he looked into Kurt’s eyes, let the girls between them vanish, and pretended it was just the two of them. It was a fantastic feeling. As they swayed Blaine thought back to what had brought them all here. The previous week Blaine had gone into Glee club on a mission. They had been sitting there, waiting for Mr. Shue to show up when Blaine and Kurt entered.

“Guys I want to ask you all something.” Blaine said, walking towards the middle of the room as Kurt went towards his seat. “Um, so, my dad’s got this big…thing coming up and my mother said I could invite some friends.”

“Big thing coming up? Are you aware that everything you say is an innuendo?” Santana asked, smirking.

Blaine rolled his eyes as Quinn asked, “What’s the thing?”

The short teen bit his lip before saying, “Well, uh, as you guys may know my dad is the CEO of Anderson Enterprises. He’s recently made a pretty big business deal, I’m not really sure what it is but I guess it’s big. So to celebrate he’s throwing this party…a, uh, a _gala_ , if you will.”

“Gala.” Puck snorted, “Dude how fucking loaded are you?”

Blaine looked uncomfortable and Kurt shot Puck a dirty look, silencing the other boy. “So, uh, yeah. My mom told me to invite someone.” Blaine glanced sadly to his boyfriend, obviously they’d already discussed this. “I said I wanted to invite Kurt but she, uh, said I should bring someone else…a, uh, a girl.” Blaine scratched at the back of his neck, looking anywhere but his friends as realization hit. “So, uh, yeah, when I said there were 7 girls in glee club she got pretty excited and said I could invite everyone. I assume she just meant the girls, but she didn’t specify so I’m inviting all of you.” He cleared his throat, stuffing his fists in his pockets and glancing back up at everyone. “So, uh, do you guys want to come?”

He relaxed as all his friends smiled at him, saying they’d be happy to go.

Back to the present Blaine’s smile widened, thankful for his friends. Hell, two of his female friends were willing to dance back to back, probably uncomfortably, so he and Kurt could pretend to dance together. They were amazing. A goofy smile spread across his lips as he continued to look into Kurt’s eyes. _I’m so happy they came_. He sighed to himself, _even if we need Tina and Rachel as buffers_.

He felt Tina chuckle against him as he heard Mike’s voice behind them, “Man! I got no signal. I wanted to send this picture to facebook.” He was sure Mike was talking about the four of them, and he couldn’t help but smile, letting his eyes slip closed.

When Blaine blinked his eyes open his mother was at his side, making him all but jump. Had he had his eyes closed for that long or did she appear out of thin air? He wouldn’t be surprised by the ladder. Her ‘my son is being openly gay’ senses had probably been tingling.

“Blaine.” She said tightly and immediately Blaine let go of Kurt’s hands, all but clutching at Tina’s hips. “Your father is going to speak soon. Come.” She was quick, cold, giving Kurt and the girls a dirty look before taking Blaine’s arm and stomping towards the set up stage. He glanced back at his friends, frowning at them as he was dragged away.

The sickening feeling in his stomach was back, and with a vengeance, and he willingly blamed his mother.

“Why would you do that, Blaine? Are you trying to embarrass us?” She whispered, voice biting.

“I just wanted to dance with him, momma.” Blaine found himself saying quietly. His mother didn’t even respond, she just gave him a cold look before focusing on walking up the step onto the stage in her heals. Soon Blaine joined her and so did his father.

Now standing awkwardly on the stage he adjusted his tie uncomfortably. He glanced over to his friends who were all where he’d left them. They gave him a smile, knowing how he felt. But now it wasn’t just the normal ‘I hate my dad’s parties, his clients make me so uncomfortable’ feeling he normally had. He was starting to realize he was feeling worse and worse as the night went on. At first he had blamed it on the nervous feelings he always got, but at this point, the way he was feeling now, he realized he was definitely coming down with something.

_Great_ , he thought, _just what I need_.

Blaine looked across the ballroom his father had rented – hell his father had rented out the whole _hotel_. This business deal or merger or whatever his father had called it was clearly a _very_ big deal. Blaine didn’t even have a clue of how important this was.

The small stage they stood on was against the middle of the back wall, Blaine and his mother stood off to the right side of it and Blaine’s father now stood at the microphone. To the left of them were some important looking business men. Blaine swallowed, trying to ignore the headache and rebelling stomach that were growing worse.

Despite his nervousness and aching stomach he couldn’t help but smile as he glanced to Kurt again and got a goofy thumbs-up from him. His mother seemed to notice and elbowed him slightly. The motion didn’t help how he felt. “Mom can we sit down?” He found himself whispering, swallowing hard.

“No, Blaine, your father’s about to speak.” She bit back, her fake smile still in place as she looked about the room.

“But mom I feel like I’m going to-”

“I want to thank all of you for coming!” John Anderson said into the microphone, quieting the room. “As you all know, Anderson Enterprises and Gen. Cor. have joined forces today,” Blaine tuned out his father as he dove into the speech written for him. Swallowing hard again he glanced back to his friends, they were all dressed in nice outfits, a lot of them in what they wore to prom (except Kurt. Not even he would chance a kilt for an Anderson party). They gave him another weak smile which he discretely returned. _After dad’s speech you can run off and hide in the kitchen with Kurt_ , he told himself, _just stand here for a few more minutes. You can do that_.

But a loud scream and the echo of what sounded like a firework sounding through the room brought him back to attention. His eyes widened as several men in masquerade masks came flooding into the room, all with large guns in hand.

Blaine’s breath caught in his throat, eyes widening. “Mom-” He started to say, panic washing over him as she took a step in front of him. The gunmen came from all directions, pushing people in the crowed and muscling their way in - several of them came and surrounded the stage. Blaine looked around the room, panicked, there had to be at least 20 guys with guns surrounding the room. Probably more outside.

Frantically he looked to his friends, seeing a gunman approaching them. Without a thought Blaine started to make a run for them, “Kurt-!” The yell died on his lips as someone stopped him. At first he thought it was his mother trying to hold him back, but the arm was too large, too strong, and it was encircling his neck. He heard someone scream, screaming his name, but Blaine couldn’t think. All he could do was lift his hands, trying to pull the forearm that was pressed against his neck, trying to break free.

Then something cold touched the side of his head.

He felt himself being dragged, his legs not cooperating as the man double his size pulled him along, the cold thing pressing hard into his temple. As they faced the opposite side of the stage for a moment Blaine could see his parents standing there with the other business men, all looking panicked.

_It’s a gun. There’s a gun pointed at my head. Oh God, I’m going to throw up._

“Alright everyone listen up!” The man yelled, pulling Blaine up straighter. He involuntarily let out a whimper. “I know we weren’t exactly invited to this little shindig but, hey, who doesn’t enjoy crashing a good party?” There were some chuckles from the other gunmen.

Blaine glanced back over to his friends again, they looked horrified. Kurt looked like he was going to vomit, but thankfully the gunmen weren’t focusing on them. Blaine actually felt marginally relieved. But then the man holding him spoke again.

“I see life’s going well for you Mr. Anderson.” He laughed, turning towards Blaine’s parents, allowing Blaine to get a look at them too. They looked just as panicked as his friends, his mother looked like she was going to break his father’s arm she was clutching him so hard. “Well, it was anyway.” The gunman turned back to the room at large, “You’re all pathetic. You just live your little sheltered lives, rolling in money, not a care in the world. None of you realize what monsters you are. All the people you take down with every step you take.”

At the angry words the gun was pressed harder into Blaine’s temple, causing the teen to let out a quiet yelp. “Don’t like that, pretty boy?” The gunman laughed and Blaine involuntarily whimpered again.  “I don’t think he wants to play, daddy.” He said, turning back to Blaine’s parents.

“Let him go!” John begged, “Please, I’d be more value to you wouldn’t I? It’s – it’s my company – please take me!” Blaine had never seen his father cry before, never heard him sound so desperate.

The sight just made everything worse.

A loud sob ripped out of Blaine before he could stop it. The sound only seemed to excite the gunman as he let out a loud guffaw. “Isn’t this cute? But the family that cries together doesn’t stay together, sorry!” Blaine could hear the smirk in the man’s voice. He squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to think, he didn’t want to deal with this. “And daddy, you’re right. It _is_ your company. Which means this is all your fault.” Blaine blinked his eyes open to see the confused look on his father’s face. The gunman made no move to explain. All he said before turning away from the father was, “What father wouldn’t give everything he had for his son?” Soon Blaine felt himself being dragged again. Dragged away from his parents.

“Blaine, no!” He heard his mother scream. Blaine managed to catch a glance of his mother and saw some of the business men holding her back as she screamed hysterically.

“Oh mommy, how sweet! But I’d cut it out if I were you. Don’t want to fall on a bullet and never find out the ending! Will daddy save his little boy?” He laughed again and soon Blaine found himself falling a bit as the man gracelessly tugged him off the stage, starting to walk towards the doors to the kitchen. “How you doin’ there, sugar pie?” The man whispered in his ear, laughing as Blaine whimpered in response.

As they neared the doors to the kitchen they also neared Blaine’s group of friends. He felt himself go rigid at the thought of the gun going anywhere near them. As they got closer Blaine locked eyes with Kurt who had tears streaming down his face. Kurt looked like he wanted to run at Blaine, but Quinn and Mercedes were holding his arms so tight they looked ready to rip them off.

_I love you_. Blaine found himself mouthing the words before he could stop himself. Kurt’s shoulders jerked a little as he swallowed a sob.

Unfortunately, this didn’t go unnoticed by Blaine’s new friend.

“Buddies of yours?” He whispered in his ear, pausing in front of the group of teens. Blaine quickly, frantically, shook his head. “Really, because I think you’re lying to me.”

“No, no,” Blaine found himself all but moaning, “No I don’t know them.”

“Tut tut, sugar pie, lying is a sin.”

“Please.” Blaine sobbed, fighting the hold. “I don’t know them, I swear I don’t. Please.”

“I think someone’s a little delirious.” He laughed, before motioning to one of his cronies. The other man came up behind the kids. “Take them too.”

“No, NO!” Blaine suddenly found himself screaming, bucking hard against his captor. “Just take me! ONLY TAKE ME!” He was sobbing, screaming.

“Oh my, this is even more entertaining than I bargained for!” The man laughed, “But you’re making it difficult to walk, love.” And suddenly pain exploded in the side of Blaine’s already throbbing head, dazing him and causing his legs to buckle. “Now kindly shut the fuck up or I’ll put a bullet in your boyfriend’s brain there.”

“N-no…” Blaine found himself mumbling into the arm, trying to stay focused despite his body’s efforts to pass out.

He blinked, and suddenly was out of the ballroom, being awkwardly dragged through the kitchen. There was the sound of a door opening and then suddenly Blaine was flying. He slammed hard into the concrete floor of the kitchen’s not very large supply pantry. He groaned, trying to ignore the pain in his head, his throat, his stomach, and now in his wrist from the fall.

He blinked, trying to get his eyes to work, but they would hardly open, let alone focus. Then suddenly there was someone at his side. Then several someones. And then the door slammed and Blaine could hear the voice that had just been in his ear ordering someone to guard the room.

Had they been left alone?

“Blaine?” The voice beside him now was not the menacing one from a moment ago – no he’d just been outside the door he couldn’t be next to him – but it was soft, loving, terrified. “Blaine sweetie.” Whoever they were they were crying.

Blaine blinked some more, trying to get his eyes to focus up at Kurt. He felt gentle hands pulling him up lightly. He was unable to suppress the moan that escaped him but soon he was wrapped up in someone’s arms, on someone’s lap.

Still unable to make his eyes work he relied on his other senses. He knew that voice, that smell, that gentle touch. Kurt was holding him, he was sure. A sob escaped him and he buried his head into his boyfriend’s shoulder. He shook violently, involuntarily. Why was it so cold in there?

“I think he’s in shock.” Blaine wasn’t sure who spoke – he thought maybe Mike – but soon he found himself being pulled away from Kurt slightly. Using the hand that didn’t hurt he reached out, grabbing hard onto Kurt’s arm.

“Sweetie it’s ok.” Kurt’s voice whispered lovingly in his ear, nothing like the voice from before. _How you doin’ there, sugar pie?_ Blaine clutched harder as the voice echoed through his head. “Blaine, please. We’re your friends. The men are outside the door. They’re not gonna hurt you.” Blaine could hear the _for now_ hanging in the air.

He opened his eyes again, thankful when they focused, and looked around at his friends. He hiccupped, glancing back to Kurt, as more tears streamed down his face. “I didn’t want him to take you.” He found himself sobbing. “I didn’t think - I shouldn’t have tried to talk to you – I just wanted you to know.” He sobbed, “And now I’ve g-gotten you all in t-trouble.” He seemed unable to catch his breath, hyperventilating and sobbing at the same time. “I’m – I’m so—so s-sorry—” He choked.

“Blaine, sweetie, please calm down.” Kurt begged, in tears himself, “Please you’re going to make yourself pass out. No one’s mad at you. I’d rather be in here with you anyway. At least I can take care of you this way. _We_ can take care of you.”

“Yeah, and they’re not pointing guns at us in here.” Sugar’s voice suddenly joined the conversation, Blaine hiccupped and the other teens all glanced at her. “What, they’re _not_. That’s a _good_ thing.”

“Not really helping, Sugar.” Santana said quietly.

But it actually was. Blaine hiccupped, breath still hitching every few seconds, but he was calming down. He was still shaking, couldn’t stop, but he could open his mouth without sobbing now. He glanced back up at his friends, trying to find a way to say all the things in his head. That he loved them, he was sorry for dragging them into this, everything. But he couldn’t find the words. All he found himself whispering was, “It’s f-freezing in he-here.”

“It’s the shock.” Mike said, _ah so it was him_. Without a word all the guys started stripping off their suit coats.

“No, guys-” Blaine started to say but his words were slurring. Soon before he knew it his was covered in his friends’ coats. He had to admit it helped a little. But he was still shaking, still freezing. Kurt wrapped his arms tight around Blaine shoulders and it made him feel a bit better actually. He snuggled into Kurt, trying to ignore the pain in his head or the situation at hand.

“We need to stop the bleeding.” He heard someone say. _Bleeding? What bleeding?_

Kurt’s arms never left him, but soon a new hand was pressing something soft into his exposed temple and _holy shit that hurts_. Blaine hissed loudly, trying to move away from the pain.

“Blaine, stop.” It was Rachel, “We need to stop the bleeding.”

“I’m not bleeding.” He said stupidly, his words slurring, hand going to slap hers away but it was trapped under the coats.

“So that’s jelly coming out of you then?” It was sarcastic, and it actually helped Blaine feel a little better, a little more normal.

“W’should fin’a way out.” Blaine cleared his throat almost violently, filled with a sudden anger as his own tongue was failing him. “M’fine.”

“We’ve been looking.” He wasn’t sure who’d spoken, maybe Finn, maybe Sam, his eyes wouldn’t focus that far. “There’s nothing in here. No air duct, no window, nothing. Our only way out is the door and, well, that…”

“Not really an option.” Kurt finished for whoever had spoken.

“Should h’lp.” Blaine found himself thinking aloud, trying to push himself up in Kurt’s lap.

“Blaine-”

“Stop it!”

“Sit back down, Blaine.”

Kurt’s hold tightened on him as several gentle hands pushed him back down. “You’re not in the greatest condition to head the escape committee.”

“But s’my fault.” Blaine slurred, wiggling in Kurt’s lap.

“Blaine, some lunatic just cracked you on the head with his _gun_ , you were sick to begin with, and you’re probably in shock. If it were me I’d be passed out on the floor.”

Blaine blinked up at Kurt, his vision darkening. “Mm…not…” He managed to get out before darkness overtook him.

Kurt wasn’t sure what Blaine had been trying to say but the incapacitated teen was fading out and Kurt knew it was his time to take over and look out for Blaine. And he knew, somewhere in his mind, that it was probably really bad for Blaine to fall asleep right now…but he just wanted Blaine to feel a little peace. He wanted him to have a moment or two to himself in the safe confines of his mind and not in this dirty pantry with gunmen outside the door.

Staring hard at Blaine as his features relaxed Kurt took in all the teen’s injuries. There was the cut on his temple, probably a concussion to go with it. He had been sick before, and still now. Kurt could tell Blaine had a temperature just by holding the boy in his lap. Mike was right, he probably was in shock, if TV shows had taught him anything.

Bottom line: Blaine wasn’t doing well and this was bad.

Biting his lip Kurt glanced up at his friends who’d taken to search the pantry for anything useful. Some band-aids, some water, a spot where their cell phones had a signal, maybe a magical escape route. Anything. As everyone let out sighs of defeat or glanced unhappily to Kurt and Blaine it was clear they were coming up empty on all counts.

Kurt decided to break the tense silence. “So, no signal?” He asked Mercedes quietly as she fussed with her phone.

“Nothing.” She said angrily, “They had to have done something. Signal jammers exist, right?”

Kurt shrugged, “They do on Law and Order.”

“This _sucks_!” Finn barked suddenly, causing everyone to jump as he kicked one of the metal shelves. “Who _does_ shit like this?!”

“Psychopaths.” Kurt responded, weirdly calm. He needed to stay calm, keep Blaine safe, get him out. He couldn’t lose it. Not until Blaine was safe back home.

“I mean, shit like this just doesn’t _happen._ We’re not in an action movie!”

“Actually I can understand.” Sugar spoke, surprising everyone. “Don’t you guys know how big this deal is?” They shook their heads. In fact, they had absolutely no idea what the two companies were or what they did. They had assumed it would have been big, seeing as Blaine’s dad rented out literally a whole hotel to celebrate. “AE is one of the biggest shipping companies in the world for medical supplies.” Sugar said, “Gen. Cor. is one of the biggest pharmaceutical companies on this side of the world. To have these two companies join forces is like…like if the Spice Girls and Backstreet Boys were two companies and they joined together…their 90s selves, of course.”

Everyone stood frozen for a moment, staring at Sugar. “How do you know all that?” Sam asked, eyebrow raised.

“My dad’s a business man. I mean, obviously not as big as Blaine’s dad but...he knows about this stuff and then _doesn’t_ shut up about it.” She bit her lip then, “Anyway, I just meant…like…this is actually really bad.”

Puck snorted, “Thanks for pointing that out.”

Kurt wondered what this could mean. Sure, he’d been under the impression whatever this celebration was about had to have been a big deal but he never thought big enough that someone would decide starting a soccer team of gunmen and then kidnapping Blaine was a good idea. Kurt was starting to feel sick. If this deal really was that big, two of the biggest companies in North America, then they were in serious trouble. _Blaine_ was in serious trouble.

With tears in his eyes Kurt bent down and pressed a soft kiss to Blaine’s hot forehead. “What are we going to do?” He whispered, voice wavering.

Before anyone could say anything more their heads whipped in the direction of the door, a few of them backing away as they stood too close. The door was opening. Without a word they all stepped in front of Kurt and Blaine on the floor, protecting their friends. The man who had held Blaine at gunpoint before stood there, laughing condescendingly as he noticed everyone’s stance. “Kids these days are such martyrs.” He snorted, before jerking his head back, “All right, get your asses out of there.”

“You’re letting us go?” Santana asked, and her voice actually wavered. Seeing _Santana_ falter didn’t make Kurt feel any better.

“Oh yeah, you can all run off to the park and candy store now.” He barked out a laugh, “No, change of plans. We’re done with you. So get out.” Several of the guys turned to help Kurt with Blaine but their captor spoke again, “Oh _no_ , little kiddies. We’re not letting _daddy’s boy_ go. Just you lot. Now come on.” When no one moved he groaned exasperatedly and cocked his gun, “ _Now_? Jesus.” Jumping a little, the teens faltered in their step, glancing down at Kurt and Blaine.

“Go guys.” Kurt found himself saying, eyes locked on their captor challengingly.

“Kurt.” Finn whispered, eyes widening with panic. “We can’t just-”

“Just go.”

“What makes you think _you’re_ staying?” Their captor asked, smirking a bit. “You’re of no use to me.”

“I could be.” Kurt said quickly, adjusting his hold on Blaine. “My dad, he’s a congressman.”

“So? If I wanted a politician’s kid I would’a nabbed Obama’s brats.”

Kurt shook his head, “My dad would move the Earth and the sun for me. My mom is dead and I’m his only son.” Kurt didn’t spare a glance at Finn, he couldn’t let his step brother ruin his momentum and tip off their captor. “He would do anything you wanted to get me out safe. He’d invade Poland if need be. I’m telling you, he’d be extremely helpful in whatever it is you’re trying to do. Just… _take me with you_.”

The room stood still, no one took a breath. They just glanced back and forth between Kurt and their captor, waiting for some kind of reaction. Finally the man smirked, adjusted the mask and pushing off the doorframe he’d been leaning against. “All right kid, we’ll take you with us. If only so you can carry his dead weight.” The man laughed, gesturing to Blaine’s still unconscious form. Kurt’s frown deepened, his hold on Blaine tightening. “Now the rest of you. _Out_.” As they all filed out, sending terrified glances at Kurt and Blaine, Sugar kind of held back.

Kurt watched the ditzy girl with a raised eyebrow. Finally when she was the only one left she paused in front of the captor. “I’m not sure if you realized, but I’m Sugar Motta and I-”

“We know who you are, honey.” The man smirked, “And yes, we know your daddy’s loaded but if we wanted money we would have gone for you, wouldn’t we? You’re useless to us, so no need to play the hero. Now _go_.”

Sugar looked back at Kurt, her eyes regretful and apologetic as she was pushed from the room. Kurt watched with wide eyes as he realized that she’d just tried to give herself up. His respect for her skyrocketed.

“Now, mister hero, you want to come with us? You have to carry mister comatose here.” Gesturing with his gun he silently communicated _hurry the fuck up_.

_Ok, Kurt, you get to stay with Blaine. This is a good thing. Take a deep breath and **move**_.

Looking down to Blaine Kurt lightly tapped his boyfriend’s cheek. “Blaine, sweetie, time to wake up.”

There was pause, Blaine’s eyelids flickering, before the teen moaned. “Urg…Kurt?”

“Yeah, sweetie it’s me. We need to get up. Can you stand?” Blaine blinked at Kurt, brows furrowed in confusion. “Blaine, we need to move.” Kurt said quietly, urgently, glancing up at their impatient captor. Blaine blinked a few more times, then suddenly seemed to remember where they were.

“Oh. Yeah,” Was all he said.

Kurt started to help him move, letting the coats that got left behind fall off him. Once standing Blaine’s knees buckled and he fell into Kurt. Catching him and hanging on tight Kurt threw Blaine’s arm over his shoulder. With his own arm tight around Blaine’s waist the two managed to get a walking motion going.

“Finally. It’s like you’re fucking Tiny Tim.” The man with the gun said as they reached the door. “Now come on, we’re taking you upstairs.” He gestured to the two guards. They nodded and lead the two teens out the kitchen’s other exit.

“Kurt?” Blaine asked, his voice coming out a whisper.

“Yes, Blaine?” Kurt responded, voice quiet as he eyed their chaperone with caution. He wondered if these two were as carefree with injuring two teens as their leader seemed to be.

“Kurt I don’t feel good.” Blaine said, his legs dragged more and more.

“I know sweetie.” Kurt whispered, adjusting his hold.

“I want to go home.” Blaine said, voice barely audible.

Kurt bit hard on his lip, trying not to let his tears fall at how small Blaine sounded. “You will soon, honey. I promise.” _We’ll get out of here._


	2. Part 2

As the teens filed out of the kitchen and back into the ballroom they were surprised as several of the adults there for the party all but swallowed them. They grabbed the kids as they came, pushing them farther into the crowed and away from the gunmen, far into the center of the room where they would be safest. These strangers were trying to protect them, perhaps thinking of their own children.

Either way, it was comforting to the terrified teens who had just left behind their friends in the hands of a madman.

But as the last teen filed out and was whisked away into the crowd Gloria Anderson stood taller, holding hard onto her husband’s arm. “My son.” She yelled, holding back her tears rather impressively, “Where is _my son_?”

The leader chuckled, strolling up toward the stage. The crowed parted for him like the Red Sea. The few in the middle, despite their distance, threw their arms around the teens. As if they could protect them from bullets.

As he trotted forward the leader spoke loudly, his voice carrying completely through the silent room. “Daddy’s little boy had to go on a trip.” He laughed, “But don’t worry. That nice boy with the pretty eyes demanded to go with him. So at least Blaine’s got an extra life should something…happen.”

“You leave those boys _alone_!” John roared, jumping in front of his wife, “They—they haven’t done _anything_ wrong!” The father’s voice faltered, a myriad of emotions running across his face as he seemed to realize his words.

“Oh but they did.” The madman said, stepping back up onto the stage, “Daddy’s boy was born to you. Strike one. Pretty eyes got attached to him. That’s strike two. One more strike and they’re out…but looks like you’re up to bat.” Lifting his gun he stared at it in the light like it was a delicate flower. “So daddy, what’s it going to be?” He side-eyed John, a sinister grin slowly forming on his lips.

John swallowed hard, watching the masked crazy man before him. With a bobbing nod he all but whispered, “What do you want me to do?”

Dropping his arm his grin turned into a bright smile. “That’s a boy!”

“Is it money you want?” John asked, sounding desperate as his question went unanswered. “Tell me!”

“Oh, Johnny boy. I’m disappointed in you. You think this is over money?” He stepped close to John, their noses all but touching. “I don’t want your _money_.” The way the man whispered the word ‘money’ it was almost like an insult.

John shook a little, “Then what,” he swallowed hard, “What do you want?”

The man sneered, “ _Justice_.”

John’s brow furrowed in confusion but before he could speak the gunman spun away from him, turning back to the crowd. “You all came here tonight…to _celebrate_.” Once again he spoke the simple word like it stung his tongue. “You celebrate two companies joining. A million dollar deal…maybe even billion? I wouldn’t know.” He snorted, as if the meaning behind his words was some inside joke none of them understood. “But none of you think of the destruction left in its wake.”

Whipping back around he pointed accusingly as John, “Isn’t it true, Mr. Anderson,” he began, as if John were on trial. He might as well be. “That when you signed that contact you knew about the lay-off clause?”

John paused, “Lay-off—?”

“In your contract there was a part that read, and I quote, ‘With this merge there will be a surplus of employees in multiple departments. To combat this, workers will be laid off based on level of seniority or their viewed necessity by their presiding supervisors.’ Do you deny this?”

“Well, no, but I don’t-laying off by seniority is how every company-”

“Did you not listen?!” The man suddenly screamed, back in John’s face. “It was not just on seniority! Their supervisors could save them from a layoff! You basically undermined the whole concept with half a sentence!”

John shook his head, stepping back, bewildered and nervous. “No, but it’s n-not that simple. There’s paperwork and hearings. Someone can’t just be saved over someone else-”

“LIAR!” John froze, heart stopping in his chest as the gun pressed against his nose. His wife let out a whimper behind him. “Hundreds of people lost their jobs! What they’d worked so long for! And now you’re _celebrating_!” The man waved his arms rather manically, losing his cool. “They worked for you! They were loyal! They were there from the beginning! And then you _dropped_ them!”

“I didn’t.” John said breathlessly, “I didn’t-”

“You did!” He snarled, moving the gun so it was pressed against John’s jaw line and getting nose to nose with John. “You _did_.”

They stared into each other’s eyes for a long, panicked moment. Finally John whispered, “Did—did you lose your job?” There was pregnant pause, John held his breath. Behind the mask the madman’s eye twitched. He didn’t give an answer, but John was pretty sure he already had it. “If you lost your job, then it – your sector – your boss – they messed up. It shouldn’t-”

“I know it shouldn’t have happened!” The man roared, whipping his arm back and slamming John across the face. The father went crashing to the floor, blood pouring from his nose. “But it did! People lost their jobs and all because you willingly signed away your workers!”

John looked up, looking lost. “What—what do you want me to d-do? I’ll fire your supervisor – I’ll hire you back-”

“Ha!” The gunman roared, “Who would want to work for _you_? A corrupt man who’d rather sell away his loyal employees than rework his contract!”

“Then what do you want me to do?” John whispered, “What’s going to get me my son back?”

The screaming man paused, blinking down at John. “I want to expose you. Expose the deceptive contract you signed. I want you to publicly admit you signed away your loyal workers - that you’re _corrupt_.”

John nodded frantically, not bothering to protest or argue. “Anything, anything. Just bring the boys back. Please.”

With a manic smile the gunman laughed, “Good man. Now let’s go get those boys.”

00

Kurt and Blaine were literally pushed into the empty hotel room.

They fell to the floor with a harsh crash. Kurt had an angry comment on the tip of his tongue but Blaine let out a low, pained moan and all attention was back on him.

“Blaine?” Kurt gently turned his boyfriend over so he was lying on his back.

“Shit, Kurt.” Blaine swore, “I don’t…don’t think I can take much more of this.” He blinked his eyes repeatedly, trying to focus himself.

Kurt smoothed back some escaped curls from Blaine’s forehead. “Oh sweetheart.” He whispered. Blaine just looked so…pathetic, for lack of a better term. The boy needed a hospital and a 12 hour nap, not a hostage adventure around this empty Hilton. But at least his slur was getting a little better, Kurt noticed. He prayed that was a good sign. It had to be.

Kurt paused and looked around the room. It held a single bed, a TV, a table and two chairs, and a bathroom. Very simple. Very small. Bending down Kurt started to help Blaine up, “Ok, up we go.” He mumbled, managing to get Blaine to his feet. “Are you feeling better?”

“I’d feel the best if I’d stop gettin’ thrown.” He said, starting to stagger forward. Kurt quickly caught him, “Woah there honey. C’mon, let’s get you on the bed.” Kurt led him over and made sure to carefully lower him onto the mattress. Once Blaine was lying down Kurt noticed the phone on the bedside table and quickly flew at it, bringing it to his ear. “Fuck.” He whispered aloud. Blaine let out a quiet ‘Hmm?’ and Kurt sighed, “Phone’s dead. They must have cut everything off.”

Sitting lightly on the mattress beside Blaine he sighed again. Glancing around the room he said, “I wonder why they let us up here.” Kurt said, blinking around the tiny room. “Why not just keep us in the pantry?”

“‘Cause walkin’ is _so_ healthy.” Blaine mumbled into the mattress, causing Kurt to let out a loud, semi-hysterical single laugh before they fell back into silence.

“I’m going to get you some water, honey.” Kurt said quietly after a moment. Leaning down he placed a soft kiss on Blaine’s forehead and made his way to the bathroom. He was glad to find an empty ice bucket surrounded by three glasses. Taking a glass he filled it with cool water from the tap and made his way back to his boyfriend.

“Ok, time to sit up.” Carefully slipping his arm behind Blaine he sat him up enough to drink. “Small sips.” He ordered.

“Yes mother.” Blaine said after he drank, an absentminded comment. But as soon as he thought about his words his eyes widened. “My parents. They-”

“We can’t do anything for them right now, Blaine.” Kurt said soothingly, placing the cup on the bedside table and encircling Blaine in his arms. “We just need to focus on making sure you don’t keel over. Maybe finding a way out.”

“The window?” Blaine said into Kurt’s shoulder. He glanced over at the large window. There was no way to open it.

“We’re six floors up…and we would need to shatter it.”

“That’d get their att’ntion on us.”

“That’s not what we want to do, Blaine.” Kurt said jokingly, starting to rub circles on Blaine’s back. “How do you feel?”

“Peachy keen.”

“Blaine.”

“Like total shit.”

Kurt kissed the top of his head, “What hurts?”

“Head. Stomach. Wrist.”

Kurt gently examined Blaine’s wrist. It was swollen, probably sprained. “You feel like you’re going to throw up?”

“Not right now. Did before. Probably will later.”

Kurt nodded, and absentmindedly laid a soft kiss on the cut on Blaine’s temple. “Your head any better?”

“Better than when he first hit me.”

The two stopped the mechanical conversation and just sat for a long moment, soaking up each other’s presence. Blaine snuggled into Kurt’s shoulder, Kurt held him tight, periodically placing mindless kisses on his forehead. They didn’t know why this was happening, what was going to happen next, if everyone was going to make it out ok, but at least they had each other.

“I hope the others are ok.” Blaine whispered.

“Me too.”

They fell into silence again. Kurt heard Blaine sniffle and began to rock him a little. “Maybe we should sing.”

Kurt laughed a little, “Why?”

“I feel like people always sing at times like this…in the movies.”

Kurt smiled, kissing Blaine again. “I wish this were just a movie.”

“Yeah…if this were a movie I’d have abs like Mike.” Kurt couldn’t hold it in that time. He burst out laughing. Blaine joined in. They sat for a moment, just laughing, until they finally collected themselves.

“I feel like we aren’t allowed to laugh at a time like this.” Kurt said, wiping at his eye.

“What better time to laugh then when the world’s ending?” Blaine whispered, losing his mirth. Kurt’s smile faded.

“We need to get out of here.” He said.

“How?” Blaine asked, looking up at the taller boy.

Kurt paused, before gesturing to the door on the wall. “Connecting room. Maybe we can get out that way.”

“That’ll only put us like 5 feet farther than we would have been otherwise.” He straightened a little.

“There was a hall right across from that door. I don’t think the stairs are far. If I run fast enough I can probably hit the stairs before they know where I-”

“I.” Blaine said.

Kurt blinked, “What?”

“I. You keep saying I. You think you’re going alone?”

Kurt bit his lip. “Well, if you could barricade yourself in the room you’d be safe and I could maybe call for help-”

“You’re not going out there alone.”

“But Blaine, it makes the most-”

“No. I may be useless but I’m not taking a fucking _nap_ while you brave thirty some _lunatics_ with _guns_.” Blaine shook his head, grimacing at the motion, “If anything I’m good for a shield.” He said, almost as an afterthought.

“Blaine!” Kurt all but screamed, “What the _fuck_! Don’t-don’t _say_ that! Like you don’t-”

“Like I don’t matter? That’s what you just said about yourself!”

“No, I’m saying I can find help!”

“ _If you don’t get shot_!”

The two stared at each other for a moment, still wrapped up in each other even as they were yelling. “I can’t lose you Blaine.” Kurt whispered.

“I can’t lose you either, Kurt.” He whispered back, leaning up and placing a soft kiss on Kurt’s lips. “Either we do this together or not at all.” It was a statement, not a question. But his eyes were still pleading. “Promise me you won’t leave me behind.”

“Ok.” Kurt whispered, unsure of what else to say. “I promise.” They sat for another long moment, then Blaine spoke again.

“I think we’ve rested enough. Time to go into action mode.”

“What should we do?”

Blaine blinked, sitting up and away from Kurt but not letting go. “If you move fast enough we can shatter the window and then lock ourselves in the connecting room. While they’re distracted in here we can make a run for the stairs, make a run for an exit, flag down help.”

Kurt nodded, a little surprised by how logical Blaine was being besides his beaten head. “That’s actually pretty genius.” He said quietly, ignoring Blaine’s mumbled ‘You sound surprised.’ “We’re gonna need to get the connecting room door open first. We can try picking the lock or force it open or something.” Blaine nodded, starting to get up. “No, just lie down for a while. You’re body’s taken a beating and we’re about to go running around so just…rest. Prepare yourself?”

Kurt had no idea what he was saying, if any of it made sense. He just wanted Blaine safe and God knew running a marathon around the hotel wasn’t the smartest plan right now but it was their only chance.

“Ok, Kurt.” Blaine said quietly, posing no protest. Kurt was thankful for that.

The countertenor began to search around the room, trying to find something he could use to force the door open. He ended up only finding a wire hanger. Bending it around he decided to try picking the lock first. He’d only picked a lock a few times before and had no idea if he was going to be able to do this. Opening the connecting door he sighed, staring at the lock angrily. Then he set to work.

Kurt worked at the lock for a long while, every now and then just stabbing the key hole with the thin wire. Right when he was about to give up he found himself doing something he hadn’t done in…well, in ever.

He started praying.

_Please. I don’t know if you’re out there. If you do exist you probably hate me but please. Please help me. Please help me help_ him _. He needs to get out. Oh god, please, we need to get out. **Please**._

Suddenly the lock clicked loudly and Kurt froze. He found himself looking around the room, as if a man with a big white beard was going to be sitting on a cloud in the corner. But no one was there, of course no one was there.

“Did you get it open?” Blaine asked from the bed, sounding hopeful.

_I don’t know if_ I _did it._ Kurt thought, but he found himself saying, “It’s open. Come on let’s get you in there first.” Blaine nodded and sat up. Kurt led him to the other room and sat him by the door. “We’re gonna have to be _fast_.” Blaine nodded. His eyes were locked on Kurt’s, more focused than they had been all day. He was ready, determined. They were going to get out of here.

“I’m gonna use the chair, shatter the window, and then we make a run for it.” He bit his lip, “Blaine if you hear them come in the room and I’m not back in here-”

“That’s not going to happen.” Blaine whispered, taking Kurt’s hands and holding his gaze seriously.

“But if it does…promise me, promise me you’ll run.”

Blaine shook his head, “It’s a pointless promise.” He said, “Because you’re going to get back in here fine and we’re going to make it out.”

“Promise, Blaine.” Kurt whispered, begging.

“Only if you promise to come back.”

With tears in his eyes Kurt nodded and both boys whispered in unison, “I promise.”

With a nod Blaine nudged Kurt, sniffling. “Go. Be quick.”

Leaning down Kurt kissed Blaine and stood, bolting into the other room so not to see the look on the other boy’s face. He stepped cautiously over to the table and chairs in the room and lifted one, testing its weight. Kurt had no idea if it was heavy enough to shatter the window but he hoped so.

_Please God_ , he found himself thinking again, _you helped me before don’t let me down now._

With one quick motion Kurt stood back and swung the chair as hard as he could. Once the chair had left his fingers he ran for the connecting door. He didn’t stop to watch if the window broke, if it worked.

As he hit the door he heard the shatter, his heart leapt. _It had worked!_

As he clicked the connecting door shut he heard the hotel room door open. Quickly he shut the door he picked open and ran for Blaine.

“Told you.” Was all Blaine said as Kurt hauled him up, threw the hotel door open and bolted down the hall.

Had this been a normal day in the hotel the pair of boys would have been quite the site. Kurt was all but dragging Blaine and running as fast as he could. They were staggering but somehow moving surprisingly fast, adrenaline pumping through them.

“Stairs.” Kurt breathed, throwing the door open and pulling Blaine in. He absentmindedly said to Blaine, “Be careful” as he all but jumped from landing to landing. Blaine struggled to keep up, tripped into Kurt multiple times, but wasn’t doing too bad considering his condition.

Kurt hadn’t heard the gunmen yet, no yelling or pounding feet behind them, but the rushing sound in his ears was pretty deafening. But he wasn’t going to chance anything, he kept his fast pace.

After practically falling down the six flights of stairs Kurt could hear one thing: Blaine panting heavily behind him. His heart snapped, he knew Blaine must be physically falling apart, almost unable to go on. But they couldn’t rest, couldn’t stop, and there was no way Kurt was leaving Blaine behind. He had made a promise after all.

Once they hit the door to the first floor Kurt took their first pause. Listening all he could hear was Blaine. Placing a soft hand over Blaine’s mouth, Kurt listened again. No running on the stairs. Had they taken the elevator? Kurt glanced out the small window the door out to the first floor. He couldn’t see anyone…but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

Removing his hand from Blaine’s mouth, he pressed his forehead to the other boy’s. Moving his mouth he barely spoke, hardly breathing out the words he said, “We’re going to go out there. I don’t know if anyone’s there but we have no other choice. Just stay close.” He pressed his lips hard onto Blaine’s pale forehead. “I love you so much.” Blaine nodded, eyes returning the sentiment.

Kurt then held up three fingers. Counting down slowly he grabbed hold of the door handle. As he hit ‘one’ he turned the knob and heard the sound of a door opening up in the stairwell. The guards had finally caught up. Kurt and Blaine shared a panicked glance before throwing the door open and running for it.

They made their way from corner to corner, trying to be fast and stealthy at the same time. As they neared the front door they had to hold in squeaks of surprise as guards appeared at the front door, backs turned to the teens.

Kurt pushed Blaine down to the floor, pulling him along as he crawled towards the first form of cover he’d seen since they left the stairwell: the front desk.

Kurt found himself doing it again. _Please God. Please God. Please God._

Right as he pulled Blaine behind the desk the two heard the sound of a door opening down the hall. Kurt pulled Blaine to him, wrapping his body around Blaine as a sort of shield. Kurt held his hand over Blaine’s mouth again, silencing all sound from the two of them. The boys held their breath, waiting, listening.

Feet came pounding down the hall. They could hear the men by the door muttering things like ‘What the hell?’ but soon a breathless voice spoke. “Where’s Mac?”

“In the ballroom.”

“Aren’t you guys guarding the kids?”

“They’re gone. We-”

“They’re _what_?!”

“They’re gone! Fuckers shattered the window. We don’t-”

“You idiots! We need them! Anderson won’t do anything if his kid’s not-”

“Not what?” It was someone new. Kurt felt Blaine shudder against him as the two boys recognized the voice.

It was the leader of the gunmen.

“Mac, what are you doing?”

“I was coming out to call for you and the boys. But it seems _you’re_ already here. And the boys?” He voice was low, scarily calm.

“T-the kids.” One of them stuttered, “They’re gone-”      

“Excuse me?”

“We don’t know how but they—they shattered the window and fucking disappeared-”

“You were on the 6th floor weren’t you?”

“Yeah, but they didn’t jump they were on the stairs, they had to be. The door was open-”

“So you’re telling me two teenagers, one who is half unconscious, managed to get past two armed adults by simply shattering a window?”

“Sir, we swear, they-”

“They still have to be in the building! All the doors are blocked – we can find them!” Kurt almost felt bad for the two guards.

_Almost_.

“You’re right. We will find them. Excellent idea.” The statement was deadpanned, but Kurt could hear the venom in the leader’s voice. “We’ll get right on that. You two however, I have different plans for you.” There was silence for less than a second, then two gunshots rang out.

Kurt tightened his hold on Blaine, pressing his hand harder against Blaine’s mouth so no one could heard the swallowed scream.

_Oh God, holy shit, he killed them. He killed them. He just shot two guys and he’s looking for **us**_. _Oh God, please don’t leave us now._

“Now that that’s settled, round up some of the boys from the ballroom. Looks like hunting season is in.”

“What about the parents, sir?”

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them. But it could hurt daddy’s boy.”

“Do you want us to shoot the kids?”

There was a pause, Kurt swallowed, rocking in his spot. “Daddy’s already agreed to expose his corrupt ways…now he can know what it feels like to lose both his livelihood and his family.” Kurt bit hard on his lip, enough to draw blood. This man was insane. He couldn’t mean what Kurt thought he meant. “Fire at will.”

Beneath him Blaine let out a muffled sort of snort. A sob. They held their breath waiting to see if they were heard, but the other gunmen were soon talking again, “Where would you like us to start sir?”

“Send the others to search each floor. You search this floor, you keep watch outside. We can’t have them climbing out the windows. But move fast, we’re moving daddy soon.”

“You’re going to take him?”

“We need to get the papers.”

“And the crowd?”

“Once we have daddy and the papers they’re useless. Let them go, shoot them, I don’t care. Just get rid of them.”

“That’s a lot of bodies, sir.”

“Then let them go. Just wait until I give the signal. But first things first, find the brats. We don’t have much time.” A pause, then, “And someone clean these two up.” 

And then their footsteps echoed out. Kurt held his breath, waiting for someone to suddenly appear next to the desk. For a hand to reach out and pull Blaine from him. Something.

But nothing happened.

Allowing himself to breathe again he removed his hand from Blaine’s mouth. Blaine let out an almost-silent shuddering sound, his eyes wide and wild. He was completely panicked, losing it. Kurt said nothing, just pressed his finger to his lips in silent message. Blaine nodded frantically, watching with wide eyes and Kurt slow extracted himself from under the desk. He barely moved, just peeking out to see if anyone was nearby. The closest man was out the front door, Kurt couldn’t see the guards from before – but oh God he could see smeared blood, like someone had been dragged.

Shaking the thought from his head he carefully reached his hands up and grabbed the phone off the desk. Carefully he pulled it under the desk, making sure the wires didn’t knock anything over on the way. Once safe back under the desk, Kurt pulled the receiver off the base. No sound emitted from the phone, no lights flickered on the base. Kurt resisted the urge to slam the phone and throw it, mind screaming _You can’t leave us now, God! You can’t, we’re so close!_

His rage was quelled as he noticed Blaine’s violently shaking hands trying to flip the machine over in Kurt’s hands. Kurt allowed him to and now they were staring at the back of the phone. The words _emergency phone line located in basement store room_ shouting back at him in red bold letters.

Kurt’s jaw all but dropped open. _You haven’t left us. Oh thank you God, you haven’t left us_.

Kurt placed the phone on the floor. Turing to Blaine he took the teen’s face in his hands, pressing their foreheads together. Breathing out the words he said, “We need to go to the basement.” The unspoken implications were clear:

_We could die_.

Blaine just nodded furiously, leaning in and kissing Kurt hard. The two kissed almost violently, biting and sucking on each other’s lips animalistically. It was completely unlike the slow, romantic kisses they normally shared. This wasn’t romantic. This wasn't just a kiss shared in the back of the choir room. This was  _need_. They _needed_  each other. Just one last time…it could be the last time.

Pulling back they both silently gasped for air, not letting go of each other, running their hands up and down the other’s hair and face and shoulders, grasping for each other, trying to imprint every look and every feel before they ran off into the battlefield together.

Pressing their sweaty foreheads together Kurt looked deep into Blaine’s eyes. Nodding, they silently agreed.

_Let’s go._


	3. Part 3

The room stood still. The air was stale. Their bodies ached from how tense they were. Ever since leaving Kurt and Blaine in the pantry the kids had been nothing but tense. Wondering where Kurt and Blaine were, if they were alright, if Blaine had slipped into a coma, if Kurt had gotten beaten, if either had gotten shot.

They had no idea what was going on. The madman running the show had disappeared a while ago after the show on the stage. He’d said he’d be off to get Kurt and Blaine, but they had yet to appear. The kids were watching to door unblinkingly, just waiting for their friends to appear, alive, walking through the door.

Then they heard it.

Two gunshots.

A few surprised yelps and screams echoed through the room, the remaining gunmen cocked their guns, silencing the people nearest them. On the stage Gloria Anderson let out a scream that echoed through the room. For a moment the kids thought _she_ had been shot. But when they looked up they could see John holding her as she practically dry-heaved she was sobbing so hard.

They knew what she was thinking.

Two shots.

Kurt and Blaine.

On the floor Rachel was whispering “No, no, _no,_ ” as she clutched Finn’s arm so hard it was sure to cut off circulation. The teens were on the brink of hysteria, wondering had their friends been the ones to take those bullets? All they could do was just stand there, furiously shaking their heads, refusing to believe what had just happened. Finn’s words from before rang through their heads:

_Shit like this just doesn’t happen._

He was right. In their hum-drum lives in Lima, going to school and going home, things like this didn’t happen. But in the big world of business there were disgruntled workers and shootings in the work place. Things like that were in the paper every now and then. But this was _them_. This was _their_ lives. Things like this didn’t happen to _them_.

_Shit like this just doesn’t happen._

And yet somehow here they were. Hostages. And two of their friends had just been presumably shot dead.

The doors opened and everyone jumped, waiting to see Kurt and Blaine walk in. Instead the madman walked in…alone.

At the sight Gloria actually did start retching, John frantically trying to calm her as the gunman sauntered up to the stage. The kids watched the scene, their own hearts aflame as they realized what had just happened. The kids clung to each other, needing each other for strength. They couldn’t believe this. _This couldn’t be true_. A loud sob rang out from the small group of teens, but before anyone could shush Puck from making another sound the gunman was on the stage and speaking.

“Something wrong?” He asked, as if he didn’t know what everyone was thinking.

“My…my son…” John was pale as a ghost. Clutching his wife, he dragged her back as the gunman walked towards them. “You…”

“I _what_ , Johnny?”

“I told you I’d give you the papers. I told you I’d confess!” John screamed, rage suddenly overtaking him. “But you shot them! I told you! Why would you shoot them!?”

The kids watched in paralyzed horror as John charged forward, swinging crazily as the gunman before him. As if swatting at a fly the man hit John with the butt of his gun, sending him crashing to the floor where he didn’t even pick himself up, a sob echoing across the room.

“Look at you two. You’re pathetic. Falling to pieces, and for what?” Neither parent answered, they just continued to fall apart on the floor. The gunman rolled his eyes as if bored with the situation. “I didn’t shoot your boy.”

Everyone froze then. Eyes widening in pure, unabashed hope. “The boys.” John said quietly, voice barely audible to the kids in the middle of the room. Sitting up John spoke louder. “The boys, you didn’t-”

“I never _said_ I did, did I?” The gunman asked exasperatedly, as if talking to a child. “Jumping to conclusions like that is going to get you into _trouble_.” The man chuckled, again as if he was the only one in on the joke.

“My baby. He’s alive.” Gloria said, makeup and tears covering her face and she sobbed in relief.

“Look at you, woman.” The gunman said disgustedly, attention now on her. “You’re a mess. Have you no self respect?” He stomped over to her, ignoring the protesting John. “Get up.” He snarled. Unsteadily she got to her feet, limbs shaking like a newborn calf. “You’re pathetic.” He snarled, pulling his hand back to hit her with the gun as he had done to her husband, but suddenly John was there, grabbing the man’s arm and pulling it back.

The gunman stumbled backwards, he hadn’t anticipated that. John stood in between the crazy man and his wife. The gunman spun around, glaring hard at John. “What are you doing?” He snarled, leveling his gun with John’s head. The father froze, blinking quickly.

“You took my son, you don’t get to hit my wife.” John said, sounding confident but not at all looking it.

The gunman smirked at first. A low chuckle rumbled out of him, the laugh got loud as the seconds passed by and soon he was leaning on his knees, laughing hysterically. “Oh so _you’re_ giving the orders now? So what, you going to demand your son now? Gonna take my gun and start calling the shots?” He leaned harder on his knees, catching his breath through his laughter. “Good one, Johnny boy, good one.” With a deep breath he calmed himself. “Alright, for telling such a good joke I’ll leave you be for a bit.”

And just like that the man stepped off the stage.

“M-my son!” John called after him, voice faltering.

“I just need to deal with the incompetencies of others first. Then…you’ll see your son.” Despite the fact he was saying he would bring them Blaine and Kurt the words sounded much more like a threat.

It made everyone uneasy. Because really they had no proof Kurt and Blaine were alive, just this psychopath’s word. For all they knew Blaine and Kurt were shot the second they all left the pantry. For all they knew they were alive and at the mall down the road.

For all they knew…they knew _nothing_.

With another muffled sob from Puck the kids settled down and waited. They could do nothing else for now. Just wait.

And pray.

00

Blaine’s head was clouded.

He could hardly think. He could hardly breathe. He could hardly _walk_. But he ignored all that. Ignored the sensation that surely his legs were going to break off. Ignored the nauseating sensation in his stomach. He knew the second they stopped moving for long he’d fall over, vomit, and pass out.

But he couldn’t exactly do that when there was a building full of lunatics with guns hunting specifically for _him_. For _Kurt_.

Currently he and Kurt were hiding in a small 2x2 closet. An ironing board was digging into his back and there was no room for him to even bend his knees, which was a good thing because if there was Blaine would have been collapsed on the floor by now.

Blaine blinked, trying to make his eyes focus. He was having a hard enough time focusing his mind. His head _throbbed_. His whole body was shaking. He could practically hear his knees knocking together. He swallowed convulsively, trying to focus on the task at hand. Getting out, getting free, saving everyone. There was one thing keeping Blaine from falling apart at the moment.

And that was Kurt’s hand clasped tightly in his.

Blaine took deep breaths. In through the mouth, out through the nose. In, out, in, out. Kurt’s hand tightened in his without turning around.

Kurt was currently pressed hard into the door. Looking through a small, small crack in the door to see if a guard was there. Listening with his ear pressed against the cool wood. As Blaine tried to collect himself, prepare his body for the next run-for-it, Kurt whispered. “I think it’s clear.” He turned his head back towards his boyfriend. Blaine couldn’t really see Kurt but he could practically feel his concern, “You ready?”

 He thought about nodding but the thought was an unpleasant one. _Then again you’re about to go running so what’s a little nodding_? His mind mocked him. Ignoring everything he cleared his head and breathed out, “Yes,” barely moving his lips.

With a small nod Kurt turned back to the door. Counting down from three he turned the knob and made a run for it, just in case someone was there. Blaine’s mind shut off as they went. He knew his body was unable to go on but somehow he was. He just let Kurt pull him along, basically dragging him from spot to spot.

It wasn’t until they hit the stairwell that Blaine realized no one had shot at them. He thought he heard Kurt say something about their run for the stairs working perfectly but Blaine wasn’t sure. His mind could barely register that he was moving, let alone Kurt’s words.

Soon he was being dragged down the stairs, tripping and crashing into Kurt’s back for the umpteenth time. Thankfully Kurt was braced for it and caught him, as he had the past several times Blaine had fallen into him.

“You ok?” Kurt asked as he continued to move but helped Blaine remember his footing.

“Been better.” Blaine got out, managing to work his legs again. Soon the two were back at break-neck speed and headed for the door to the basement. Blaine felt himself lose his footing again as Kurt stopped short at the door, but he directed himself to fall into the wall and not his boyfriend. He felt Kurt’s arm around his waist, pulling him back into a standing position.

He was pretty sure Kurt was talking but at this point he gave up trying to understand.

He knew it was bad. He knew things were bad. He knew he was running on empty and that were this any normal situation he would have been at the hospital a long time ago. But this wasn’t a normal situation. And pushing himself beyond his limits was more desirable that getting shot in the face.

Soon they were moving again. Blaine wasn’t sure how long they had even been stopped but it couldn’t have been too long because his body hadn’t tried to shut down. So that was something.

In a blur they were running past doors and carts filled with housekeeping items. Kurt seemed to know where they were going which was good because Blaine had kind of forgotten. Kurt was running faster than before, Blaine wondered if they were being followed. If he’d had enough control over his body he would have turned to look.

After a moment he realized they’d stopped moving. They weren’t out in the hall anymore…and Blaine was on the floor?

Blinking up Blaine could see Kurt over him, eyes wide in panic. Pressed against his ear was a red phone receiver. Had they found the emergency phone? When had that happened?

The lost time was worrisome, but panic began to overtake Blaine as he realized he couldn’t hear a word Kurt was saying. He could see his boyfriend’s lips moving but all Blaine could hear was a rushing sound over muddled noises. Like he was underwater.

He opened his mouth to try to talk but he found himself on his side, emptying what little had been in his stomach onto the floor.

The edge of his vision was darkening, the world was spinning, he just wanted to pass out.

But then suddenly Kurt was there again. The only thing in his line of sight, the only thing in his world. He felt Kurt’s hand in his, felt his arms wrapped around him. He felt Kurt’s breath on his neck as he spoke words Blaine couldn’t hear. He realized his eyes were closed, he wondered when that had happened.

He felt Kurt’s arms tighten around him, almost painfully. He wanted to ask Kurt to loosen his grip a little, Blaine was having enough trouble breathing as it was.

But then he heard it.

The loud popping sound cut through all the muddled mess in his ears.

It was a gunshot.

Before Blaine could think anything more he fell completely into darkness.

00

Kurt held his breath, threw open the closet door, and ran, dragging Blaine’s dead weight along with him. He kept glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was behind them. Thankfully there wasn’t at the moment, but he knew there would be soon. They couldn’t stop or slow down in the middle of the hall. If they stopped there they’d be dead for sure.

The guard that had caused Kurt to hide in the closet had disappeared around the corner and Kurt wasn’t sure when he’d be back. He couldn’t take any chances. He needed to get downstairs. He needed to find the store room. He needed to find the emergency phone. He needed to save Blaine.

“We’re gonna be fine.” He said, almost jumping as he realized he’d spoken aloud.

Soon they were in the stairwell, Kurt listened for a moment. He didn’t hear anyone but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. With a deep breath he resolved to continue running. Behind him he could hear Blaine wheezing, feel Blaine struggling. The other boy had fallen into him several times when Kurt made short stops, just as he did now as Kurt made a sharp turn on one of the stairs.

Blaine crashed into him, mumbling something unintelligible. “You ok?” Kurt asked, hardly stopping on the landing and steadying his boyfriend.

“B’n b’tt’r.” Blaine said, words garbled and stalled as he panted heavily, face pale as a sheet. Kurt’s heart broke. He just wanted to stop, let Blaine collect himself, but there was no time. Without a word Kurt took the lead again, jumping from landing to landing, skipping as many stairs as he could. Before long they were at the end, stopping at the door by to the basement.

He felt Blaine stumble behind him, he braced himself for the crash but instead Blaine slammed into the wall beside him.

“Blaine!” Kurt whispered, wrapping an arm around Blaine’s waist and pulling him into a steady position. “Blaine, are you ok? Can you stand?” Blaine blinked heavily, he looked in Kurt’s direction but he made no indication that he’d heard anything he said. “Blaine?” Kurt asked, again Blaine didn’t react. “Fuck.” Kurt whispered, panic coursing through his veins.

Without a word he resolved to move even faster. Checking the basement hall he noted it was empty and made a run for it. He pulled Blaine along, trying not to think of his boyfriend’s terrible condition, and read each door’s label as he ran.

_Furnace, no._

_Boiler room, no._

_Store room – yes!_

Kurt threw the door open, flying into the room. Closing the door behind Blaine he quickly laid the teen on the floor. “Blaine?” He asked, the teen  just blinked heavily. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Kurt chanted to himself. Quickly he began to look around the room. It held old tables and chairs, paintings, lamps, and boxes upon boxes.

Throwing things out of the way Kurt found a big red phone on the back wall, hidden behind a box labeled _candle sticks_. “Oh my God,” Kurt sobbed, letting out a shuddering breath as he felt hope fill him for what felt like the first time ever.

Pulling it off the base he found it had no buttons to dial, but was ringing the second the receiver touched Kurt’s ear. “Westerville Police Department, is this the Downtown Hilton?”

“Yes.” Kurt breathed, “Yes please I need help.” He found himself sobbing.

“Alright son, calm down, what’s the problem?”

“There—there was a party—and these gunmen they took us but we got away-” Kurt had never felt so childish as all intelligent thought left him.

“Did you say gunmen?”

“Yes – like – like 30 of them. Please. They’re holding everyone in the ballroom – and – my boyfriend – he’s hurt – he’s –” _Dying_. Kurt couldn’t bring himself to say it.

He could hear the woman on the other end of the phone talking to someone else about an ‘armed hostage situation’ before she spoke into the receiver. “Ok honey, calm down, the police will be there soon.” With a relieved sigh that turned into a sob Kurt thanked her repeatedly. “You said someone’s hurt?”

“Yes, my boyfriend.” He said, turning back to Blaine.

“What kind of condition is he in?”

Without letting go of the phone Kurt fell back over to his boyfriend, taking the boy’s face in his hand. “Blaine?” He called to him, Blaine blinked at him, eyes glassy – focusing and un-focusing. “Can you hear me?” He sobbed, still getting no reaction. “He—he’s not responding!”

Blaine opened his mouth, as if he was going to speak, but suddenly he gagged. Letting the phone fall from him, Kurt focused completely on his boyfriend. Turning him on his side Blaine began to weakly empty what little was in his stomach. Kurt drew circles on his back, whispering comforting words because what else could he do?

Soon the retching stopped and Kurt turned Blaine back on to his side, holding Blaine’s hand tight in his. “Blaine, please.” He saw Blaine’s eyes focus for a moment, taking in Kurt above him, before his lids slowly slipped closed. “Blaine!” He begged, pulling him up into his lap. “Blaine don’t pass out!” He hugged Blaine close, clutching him.

That was when Kurt heard it.

The sound of the door clicking.

 _Oh God_.

Without a thought Kurt tightened his hold on Blaine, probably too tight, but he wouldn’t let go. Because they weren’t alone anymore.

“There you are.” Kurt shuddered at the voice, pressing Blaine as hard as he could into his chest. “We’ve been looking for you boys.”

Kurt looked up into the eyes of the madman in charge of it all. The man who had held a gun to Blaine’s head. The man who threatened their lives and made them all terrified. Kurt knew he should say something, anything. Beg for their lives, make the man see the error in his ways.

But Kurt said the only thing he could think to:

“Fuck you.”

The man paused, eyes surprised, before he threw his head back and let out a loud laugh. “Oh, you’ve got some spunk!” He shook his head before glancing down at Blaine, “Aw, daddy’s boy isn’t doing too well is he?”

“Because of _you_.” Kurt snarled, tightening his already painful hold on Blaine.

The gunman shook his head, clearly amused. “You made this fun, pretty eyes, I’ll give you that.” Kurt shuddered at the pet name, _pretty eyes_. “But we’re at the end of the road. Daddy’s got to pay for what he’s done and the best way to do that is to… _deal_ with you two.”

“Deal with us?” Kurt repeated, trying to make his voice biting but it came out terrified.

“I think you know what that means.” The madman smirked, raising his gun and leveling it on the teens.

 _This is it,_ Kurt thought, _this is the end._

Bending forward he wrapped himself around Blaine, trying to work as a shield. _I love you, Blaine_ , Kurt thought, _I’m sorry_.

**Bang** _._

Kurt jumped violently at the sound, bracing himself for the horrible pain, for death. But he felt nothing. He wondered if it was like they said on TV shows and in books, that the pain was so horrible you go numb. But wouldn’t he have felt the pain first?

But then he heard something else.

A groan, quickly followed by, “Police! Drop your weapon!”

Kurt’s head snapped up. His eyes widened as he took in the sight before him. The gunman lay on the floor, blood pouring from the gunshot in his thigh. Policemen were flooding the room, kicking the man’s gun away and putting handcuffs on his wrists. A man went right for Kurt and Blaine.

“Son, son did you make the call?”

Kurt couldn’t answer. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t feel anything.

And then the sob escaped him. “Oh God, Blaine.” He found himself violently sobbing, looking down at his unconscious boyfriend, “Blaine we’re _saved_.”

00

It was like he was under water, slowly heading towards the surface.

Everything was muffled, slowly becoming clearer. He could make out a beeping, the distant sound of people talking softly, an echoing clicking, and a strange wheezing sound (he came to realize that was the sound of his own breathing). But one sound rang out over those. A sweet, beautiful sound.

It was the sound of someone humming.

As Blaine came to focus more, the person humming began to softly sing. “ _Don’t you ever, ever feel…like you’re less than…less than perfect…_ ” They sang slowly, like they had all the time in the world to get the lyrics out, going back and forth between humming and singing. As they sang Blaine could feel a soft hand slowly petting his hair in time with the beat. “ _If you ever, ever feel…like you’re nothing…you are perfect to me…_ ”

He felt soft lips press against his forehead gently.

“I love you Blaine.” Blaine took that as his cue to wake up. Slowly he turned his head towards the beautiful voice. “Blaine?” After a lot of effort Blaine managed to get his heavy eyelids to open. Blinking slowly he peered up at his bedside companion, smiling as he took them in.

“L’ve ‘ou too, K’rt.” He managed, mouth as dry as cotton.

In a flash Kurt was bent over, arms wrapped tight around Blaine. “Oh my God, Blaine, I…” He didn’t finish, just pulled back. Blaine blinked Kurt into focus, finding the brunette had tears streaming down his face.

“K’rt.” He started to say, swallowing convulsively as the words died on his lips. Kurt quickly nodded and sat back. Leaning over he grabbed something out of Blaine’s line of sight and a moment later a straw was being pressed against Blaine’s lips.

“Drink slowly.” Kurt said, voice soft. Blaine did as instructed and soon felt much better. Once the cup was half empty Kurt pulled it back and Blaine cleared his throat.

“Much better.” He said, voice rough.

Kurt sat back again and watched Blaine was adoring, concerned eyes. “How do you feel, sweetie?” He asked, reaching up and smoothing Blaine’s curls back again.

“Like I just lived out _Mission Impossible_.” He croaked, letting his eyes slip closed and leaning into Kurt’s hand as he stroked Blaine’s cheek. “How long has it been?”

The brunette at his side bit his lip before quietly answering, “Almost a week.”

Blaine’s eyes snapped open, “The…the guy – he was –?”

“Arrested. Court’s going for the highest sentence, I was told.” Kurt said, looking satisfied with the idea.

“And everyone?”

Kurt smiled, albeit a bit sadly. “Everyone’s ok. You were the only one hurt.”

“And you?”

Kurt hummed softly, “I’m fine Blaine.” He said dismissively.

Blaine looked up at Kurt, who had yet to move his hand, with a furrowed brow, “You’re not fine.” He said, voice a whisper.

Kurt gave him a soft smile, “It doesn’t matter, I’m not the one in the hospital bed.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t matter.” Blaine said, eyes tearing up a bit, “You matter to me.” 

Kurt’s eyes went glassy, blinking away his own tears. “Don’t worry about me. I’m ok.”

Blaine said nothing for a long moment, just watching Kurt as he ran the back of his fingers up and down his boyfriend’s cheek. “I’m not ok, Kurt.” Blaine whispered, swallowing hard. “I…I thought we were going to die. I was so scared. I was sure if I didn’t die you were going to. I was…I was just _so scared_.” He blinked, tears breaking free. “So, you may say you’re ok…but I—I’m not.”

Tears falling freely once again Kurt’s lips trembled. Without a thought Blaine reached up, hand heavier than he ever remembered, and placed it on Kurt’s arm. Tugging lightly Kurt got the message and carefully climbed onto the bed. Instantly Blaine latched onto Kurt, wrapping his arms around the boy’s midsection – careful of the IV and wires connected to him – and buried his face in Kurt’s stomach. Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine’s shoulders, pulling him close.

Soon Blaine was shaking, body wracking in silent sobs, and it wasn’t long before Kurt was doing the same. They sat there for a moment, just crying into the other. “I was so scared I’d lost you.” Kurt whispered, leaning down and pressing his lips into Blaine’s curls.

“I love you so much, Kurt.” He sobbed into Kurt’s shirt, “ _God_ , I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Blaine.” Kurt whispered back, holding him tighter. “I’m never letting go of you ever again.”

“Please don’t.”

They sat there for a while, unsure of how long it’d been. In fact, they probably never would have pulled back if the door hadn’t opened.

“Blaine?”

The injured teen removed his face from his boyfriend’s stomach and turned towards the door. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of his parents. A sudden horrible feeling of guilt seized him as he realized he had not once thought of his parents after waking up. His only thought had been _Kurt. Kurt’s ok_.

He blinked at them, he’d never seen them looking they way they did right now. His mother in _jeans_ for lord’s sake. They looked haggard, clothes rumpled and hair falling out of place. His father wore a pair of wrinkled dress pants and an un-tucked dress shirt – his jacket and tie were missing and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His mom wore a creased blouse with – was that a _coffee stain_ on the front?

 _Oh my God they’re falling apart and I couldn’t even spare them a thought_.

“Blaine.” He mother sobbed, running forward and falling into the chair next to the bed. Blaine could feel Kurt starting to get up beside him but before Blaine could tighten his hold something shocking happened.

“It’s ok, Kurt, you don’t have to get up.”

Had—no, Blaine had to be dreaming. No way had his father just said that.

With Kurt’s assistance Blaine sat up, still half against Kurt’s chest but now upright. “You’re ok.” Blaine said, clearing his throat again at the roughness of his voice.

“Oh baby, we’re fine.” His mother sobbed, clutching his hand tight. “Oh my God, my baby...” She buried her face in her free hand, nosily crying.

“It’s ok, mom.” Blaine said reassuringly, “I swear it’s ok.”

“No it’s not.” She whispered, looking up as her husband placed a hand on her shoulder, “I almost lost my baby and God the last things I would have said to you…” She began to cry again.

Blaine thought back to his mothers words before the whole dangerous situation started. _Why would you do that, Blaine? Are you trying to embarrass us?_ “It’s ok, momma.” He said quietly.

“No, Blaine, it’s not!” She shrieked, sitting up straight, “We almost lost you! And I—the way we’ve treated you—!”

“What your mother’s trying to say…” Blaine looked up at his father, eyes widening as he saw tears in the man’s eyes. Excluding the whole nightmare in the hotel, Blaine had never seen his father show any kind of emotion. “Blaine we…we haven’t been treating you as we should had…as our son.” John’s voice cracked and Gloria reached up, placing her hand over her husband’s on her shoulder.

Blaine froze, he could feel Kurt tense in surprise beside him “You…you’re saying…”

“We’re so sorry, Blaine.” His mother said, her voice cracking as well. “We’ve been horrible excuses for parents.”

“No, no you haven’t-” Blaine started to say, eyes wide.

“Yes we have, Blaine you know we have.” John said, “And the fact it took something…something so horrible for us to realize it…” Blaine’s father shook his head, looking away and brushing the tears off his cheek. “It’s something I said when…when _he_ …took you.” The father struggled over the words, over his memories. But soon, in proper John Anderson fashion, he collected himself. “When he took you. I said…I said that you hadn’t done anything wrong. And you hadn’t – _haven’t_ …either of you.”

Blaine turned, glancing to Kurt. The other boy’s eyes were just as wide as his. “Dad, are you saying-”

“I’m saying I’m so, _so_ sorry for not being as accepting of the two of you as I should have been.”

“Neither of us have been.” Gloria cut in, wiping at her own eyes. “And we…we may not completely agree with…with…”

“It may be hard,” John cut in, “Completely accepting and understanding everything. But we…we’re going to try.” Blaine felt his eyes well up, jaw dropped in shock.

“Are you saying you’re ok with _us_ , sir?” Kurt’s voice broke the silence, speaking when he knew Blaine was unable.

John looked at Kurt, eyes serious. “I haven’t been fair to you, Kurt. _We_ haven’t. We had such a problem with the two of you…as a pair…but we…we didn’t realize…”

“You saved him, Kurt.” Gloria said, voice cracking, “I know if it weren’t for you I would have lost my son. And I…you love him. You love each other, we can see it now.” She sniffled, glancing down at Kurt and Blaine’s entwined hands (neither of which had noticed they’d taken the other’s hand). “We have our son because of you. Because of how much you love him. And I…I owe you everything for that.”

John nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed. “We’re going to start doing what we should have a long time ago. We’re…we’re going to love our son for who he is…and we’re going to respect the boy he loves. The boy who loves him.”

John took Gloria’s hand, the two shared a glance before turning back to their son and his boyfriend. “We’re so sorry, Blaine.” Gloria whispered, “Could you…could you forgive us?”

Blaine sat frozen, eyes wide. Without a word he leaned forward, pulling his parents forward into a hug. “Yes. I—I forgive you. I love you guys.” He whispered, tears streaming down his face.

“We love you too.” Gloria and John whispered at the same time, clinging tight to their son.

Blaine may not be ok, might have been through a horrible experience, but he couldn’t help but think that now everything would get better. It may take a while, and it would be hard. He would have to deal with the police, lawyers, therapists probably. But he had Kurt. He had his _parents_ now too. They could all get through it. Together.

After all they had already faced one nightmare together. They could get each other through the others. 

**Author's Note:**

> There is also some beautiful art for this fic, check it out here: http://plumey.tumblr.com/post/35350360621/kurt-placed-the-phone-on-the-floor-turning-to


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